


I Could Hardly Ask for More

by Impala_Chick



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: 1940s, Bittersweet Ending, Business Trip, Flirting, M/M, Post-Canon, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 09:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22967863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/pseuds/Impala_Chick
Summary: Stanhope sends Nixon and Dick to go collect some visiting British businessmen at the airport. It turns out that Nixon knows one of them from the War.
Relationships: Lewis Nixon/David Dobie, Lewis Nixon/Lt Colonel Dobie
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20
Collections: Heavy Artillery Rare Pair Exchange 2020





	I Could Hardly Ask for More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThrillingDetectiveTales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/gifts).



> Let me just tell you that the banner for this challenge was very inspirational. Also there is no doubt in my mind that Dobie is a huge flirt and an absolutely filthy dirty talker.
> 
> I learned some new and interesting things for this fic: By January 1946, Pan Am had a flight from New York to London in 17 hours 40 minutes, five days a week. Heathrow opened in 1946 and was called London Airport. It was renamed in 1966. La Guardia was opened in 1939. This fic takes place in 1949.
> 
> Title is from a Dobie quote, and I recycle it in the fic.

NIxon is behind the wheel of the ‘49 powder blue Cadillac with the white roof. One of Stanhope’s absolute favorites, which is how Nixon knows that the upcoming meeting is a big deal. 

Nixon has to admit his father’s plan was an ambitious one. And his father rarely ever came up with ambitious plans, let alone set them into motion. Executives from the English company Williams and Smith were coming out to see Nixon Nitration works firsthand. There would be a factory tour, a meet and greet, and then they were going to be heading right back to the airport for their return flight.

A 17 hours 40 minute trip all the way from London airport, just to glad-hand with a company and decide whether or not to invest. Nixon isn’t sure if he is ever going to understand the business world at this rate. Couldn’t they just read a report and call them on the phone? But Stanhope had repeatedly lectured Nixon about making a good impression, and about being a dazzling host, sio Nixon didn’t complain. Any excuse to get out of the office was a worthy distraction indeed.

Nixon has the window rolled down a bit, just enough to ruffle his hair and make him appreciate summer. He looks into the rear view mirror, glad to see Dick still following him in the Buick. They are going to pick up six men at the airport. Not all of them are going to fit in one car, which is why Stanhope asked Dick to drive as well.

Nixon pulls up to La Guardia and puts the Cadillac in park. Dick does the same with the Buick, and they nod at each other before heading inside. Nixon can hear plane engines overhead, which remind him of Air Force planes, and smoke, and fire, and dead boys hanging from trees.

He shudders, and glances over at Dick, who offers him a watery smile. He is a little sweaty and pale too, which emboldens Nixon. They aren’t alone, and even the unflappable Dick is a bit compromised, and they weren't going to have to get on a plane anyhow. They are going to be fine.

Nixon gives silent thanks that his father had decided to wait back at the plant, because he would have noticed Nixon’s trepidation and said something snide. Nixon had come back broken and bent and just fucking different, but his Father was exactly the same as he’d always been. 

Nixon sighs heavily and looks over at Dick, who is already holding up the big white paper sign. Earlier that day they’d written on it in black pen WILLIAMS AND SMITH. 

Men in black and brown business suits start streaming down the stairs. All of them look very bland, with short-cropped brown or blonde hair, striped ties, and grim expressions on their faces. Nixon wonders how many of them were going to have to get right back on the plane after the day is over.

Nixon self-consciously adjusts his tie and then stands with his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands behind his back. He almost laughs at himself for going to parade rest, but then someone catches his eye. It only takes Nixon a moment to recognize him. His face is unmistakable, even without his crisp military uniform or red beret on.

Colonel David Dobie in a blue well-fitted business suit and a brown-striped tie.

They lock eyes in the crowded lobby of the airport, and for a heart-pounding moment of either dread or relief, Nixon thinks Dobie is going to keep on walking right past him. He can’t decide if it would be better or worse for Dobie to stop, considering Nixon has no idea what to say to him.

He remembers the morning after Operation Pegasus and their shared success very vividly. Nixon isn’t one to turn a good invitation down, but Dobie knew his way around a cock, which had been a pleasant surprise. Truth be told, Nixon has thought about it more than once since coming back stateside. But he never in a million years thought he’d get to see Dobie again. It had all just been idle fantasy fodder. Something fun to get him through the longer nights.

But now, Dobie is standing in front of him. With a smile on his face. 

“You are the gentlemen picking us up, then?” Dobie says.

Dick clears his throat, and that prompts Nixon to find his voice.

“What a small world, heh?” Nixon says in lieu of an answer. Dobie laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and pulls Nixon in for a hug.

Nixon goes with it, even though he’s caught off guard. He’d have thought for sure that the play would be to keep as much space between them as possible. Dobie is already breaking all the strict social rules that Nixon has been relearning since becoming a civilian. Dobie smells crisp, like aftershave. Nothing like gunpowder and sweat. Nothing like the last time they’d been this close.

At least Dobie hugs Dick after, too. 

Nixon greets the rest of the men from Williams and Smith with a handshake and a tight-lipped smile. They are all so boring that Nixon doesn’t even bother remembering any of their names. He’s got Dick for that, which is undoubtedly why Stanhope had made sure Dick came along. Nixon keeps getting distracted by Dobie’s warm smile, anyway. He seems to come by it so easily and freely, and Nixon wonders if he had to work to get it back or if it just never left.

Everyone asks interested about how Nixon and Dobie know each other, and Dobie regales them with the less gruesome war stories as they walk to the cars.

They load up, with the Chief Operating Officer taking the front passenger seat in the Cadillac. Dobie smoothly slides into the back, right behind Nixon’s seat. Nixon considers that a win because Dobie is physically as far away as he can get in the car, which means Nixon won’t have to look at him.

Nixon immediately realizes how wrong he is when he glances in the rear view mirror to back out of the parking spot. Dobie glances up at him and smiles again, and Nixon narrows his eyes. He sort of feels like Dobie is trying to set him up for something, or make Nixon commit some social faux pas.

The COO asks Nixon a bunch of questions about cellulose nitrate and production values and safety precautions. Nixon gladly answers them, just because he’s happy to keep his mind occupied on things that have nothing to do with a certain former Commander of 1st Battalion, British Airborne. 

It’s not Nixon’s fault he has to keep glancing in his rearview mirror. He’s a good, responsible driver. There would probably be no investment deal if the son of the owner of Nixon Nitration Works crashes the car. Dobie’s eyes meet his every time he glances at the mirror. Nixon can see Dobie drumming his fingers against his knee with a relaxed smile on his face. Nixon has no idea what to make of that.

They all make it to the plant safely, and Stanhope is there to personally greet each of their six visitors. He has his secretary hand out glasses of American whiskey and cigars, and then he ushers the men inside for the grand tour. He doesn’t spare a glance at either Nixon or Dick, but that’s to be expected. If there’s one thing Stanhope is good at, it’s showboating. He spreads his arms wide and tries his best to dazzle the English businessmen with tales of American ingenuity and hard work. 

Nixon trails along at the back, debating whether or not to just give them all the slip when they aren’t looking. Dick keeps throwing him worried glances over his shoulder, so Nixon shakes his head, gives a thumbs up, and backs off of that plan. Once the COO is elbow deep in a machine of some sort, Dobie slips to the back of the group to bump Nixon in the shoulder.

“So, this is what former intelligence officers get up to?” He says under his breath, bouncing up and down on his toes. He’s looking straight ahead, pretending to be paying attention, but Nixon is not so easily fooled. Dobie is close enough so that their elbows touch, and there’s an odd excited energy coming off of him. It’s like his skin is vibrating. 

“It’s rare that we have visitors of your caliber,” Nixon says. He knows flirting when he sees it, so he ups the ante. There’s no one around to hear them, and it’s not like Nixon is ever going to see Dobie again. Might as well play along now, while he can.

“I must admit, I did not expect to see you on this trip,” Dobie says, glancing over at Nixon and biting his lip. He raises one eyebrow and cocks his head, and he looks exactly like the man Nixon had tumbled into bed with five years ago.

“Give me a break. The name of the company didn’t give me away?” Nixon scoffs. 

“Oh, that’s an excellent point. Because there is only one Nixon family in America.” Dobie rolls his eyes. “You forget that I had no idea where you’d gone after the war. You never even wrote to me.” He doesn’t say it accusingly. He just states facts. Nixon doesn’t think Dobie expects an explanation, so he doesn’t try to make one up.

“Time has been kind to you,” Nixon says instead. And it’s true. He’s got more crow’s feet, but his eyes are bright and happy. There’s a youthful energy to his step as they start walking behind the group, and his hair looks thick and lustrous. Nixon finds that he’s just as attracted to him as he was in the Netherlands, when they’d met up behind that barn. 

They both had been a little wild, a little desperate. In the dark, near all of the celebratory noise of all of those American and English airborne, the only thing that mattered had been tongues and teeth and the feel of warm skin under Nixon’s fingers. Dobie’s accent, whispering absolutely filthy things in his ear, had definitely been an added bonus.

That thought makes him wonder if Dobie is still just as adept with his mouth as he’d been in 1944.

Dobie elbows him again, and then keeps his thigh pressed up against Nixon’s. 

“You’ve got a faraway look in your eye. Have things been difficult since the war?” He has to lean in so that Nixon can hear him, his breath tickling the back of Nixon’s neck. Nixon involuntarily shivers, his skin tight and his breath shallow just from the sense memory of having Dobie so close.

“We don’t have time for any of your English feelings, alright? Just, c’mon. We gotta catch up with the rest of the group.”

Dobie scoffs and rolls his eyes. It should be annoying but instead, Nixon just feels his heart rate pick up. Nixon turns away and leads them down the corridor before he does something stupid like try to kiss the man. Nixon lengthens his stride and swings his hips just to put on just a bit of a show, though. No sense in wasting a perfectly good opportunity.

Nixon finds the rest of them soon enough. Dick raises an eyebrow but offers no comment when he sees the two of them join the back of the tour. Luckily Stanhope is so into hearing himself talk that he doesn’t even seem to notice that Nixon’s been gone.

After only having to listen to his father for another 30 minutes, the group is mercifully disbanded. Stanhope and the COO head over to his office, while the rest of the Englishmen are ushered to the reception room. Stanhope’s secretary already has a tray of cigars set up, and the bartender is pouring strong drinks. Dick is mingling with the guests, and everyone seems to be in good spirits. 

Especially Dobie, who takes every opportunity to catch NIxon’s eye. Nixon gulps down his drink.

Nixon considers that they probably have about thirty more minutes before they have to leave for the airport. All the Williams and Smith employees look busy either drinking or chatting up the wait staff. So Nixon figures he could probably get away with sneaking out for at least ten minutes.

“Englishman,” he whispers right in Dobie’s ear. “Follow me.”

He feels a thrill run through his body, excited to be doing something so ill advised right under his father’s nose.

He steps out of the room discreetly and heads down a small corridor until he reaches the supply closet. He can hear Dobie following behind him. Once he’s inside, Nixon shuts the door.

“Why all this effort?” Dobie asks, clearly playing at being coy.

“Playing dumb is going to get you exactly nowhere,” Nixon says. And then he hauls Dobie in by his tie and kisses him squarely on the mouth.

Dobie laughs against his lips and then flicks his tongue out, melting under Nixon’s hands. He clings closer and pushes his hands under Nixon’s jacket to grip his hips. Once he feels Dobie’s touch, Nixon is immediately reminded of their last rendezvous. Details of one of the few good memories from the war bubble up and surround Nixon, and he kisses hungrily, like he’s back in that warm bed and surrounded by candlelight.

Dobie’s got the slightest hint of stubble and as it scrapes against Nixon’s cheek, Nixon jolts back. That feels completely different from last time, when Dobie’s face was as smooth as butter.The stark contrast pulls Nixon out of his fantasy and makes him realize just how impulsive he’s been. They are in an extremely compromising situation and for what? He’s going to put Dobie back on a plane and never see him again.

“I… Sorry,” Nixon mumbles. He scrubs a hand through his hair and turns around, to hide his shame.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I? I have no objections to a goodbye kiss between friends, alright?” Dobie says softly.

Nixon turns around, grateful that at least Dobie’s not mad at him. 

“Truth be told, I was angling for some tongue this whole day.” Now Dobie looks smug again, his bright eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh yeah?” Nixon laughs then, a little high-pitched and hysterical. If his father or anyone from Williams and Smith caught them, Nixon would be in huge fucking trouble. 

But what the hell. That’s exactly why it should be a _good_ thing that he won’t see Dobie again. He can enjoy his company and then be on his way, with no one the wiser.

Nixon glances at his watch. “By my clock, we’ve got five minutes.” 

Dobie smiles a wide, shark-like grin. “Oh, do talk dirty to me.”

And then Dobie steps forward to kiss him again. Nixon lets himself relax into it, and he doesn’t take it so seriously this time around. Dobie nips at Nixon’s bottom lip, and Nixon bites back playfully. He tugs Dobie’s lip forward, and then he opens his mouth to Dobie’s tongue. Nixon feels the tension leak out of his body as Dobie holds him close. He sighs into the kiss and winces at his own sentimentality, but Dobie doesn’t comment on it.

Nixon pulls back to glance down at his watch. Dobie doesn’t release his grip on Nixon, and they stay like that for a moment, with their groins and thighs pressed up against each other. 

But it’s definitely gone well past the ten minute mark.

Dobie must understand what Nixon’s frown means, because he just shakes his head.

“It’s quite alright. You’ve already made me feel quite special for an older fellow,” Dobie says with a wink.

Nixon laughs at the familiar gesture. He’s in agreement that some time alone is better than no time at all.

Nixon leads the way out of the room, and Dobie slaps him on the ass as he walks past. Nixon jumps in surprise, but finds that he quite likes how open Dobie is with him. He never gets to feel so desired, outside of visiting his favorite club.

They don’t say much to each other after that, but Dobie stays close by his side when they rejoin the group. Nixon feels a thrill run down his spine every time Dobie elbows him or brushes a hand across his back. It probably looks innocent enough to the untrained eye, but Nixon likes that Dobie is purposefully making him feel special.

After light horderves are served and everyone has finished their whiskey, they all climb back into the car. Nixon notices Stanhope shaking hands with the COO. He looks like he’s pleased, so maybe there had been a deal made after all. Nixon selfishly hopes so.

Dobie sits in the back seat again, which Nixon actually gets to enjoy this time around. He smiles and laughs and winks because once they get to the airport, none of it will matter. And Nixon just wants to let himself feel good about something.

He says goodbye plane-side with a manly hug. 

Dobie leans in to whisper in his ear, “America is rather nice, actually.” 

Nixon snorts. “You’re welcome back any time.” 

And he means it, actually. He waves and tries not to look like a total sap before walking away. 

Dick hurries to catch up with him. “How do you think it went?”

Nixon isn’t sure if he’s talking about the meeting or Dobie. 

“I could hardly ask for more,” Nixon says with a wistful grin. He feels his gut clenching up with something like regret, but at least he has new memories to add to the old. Just as his father keeps telling him, a man can’t live in the past forever.


End file.
